


Unsinkable

by atqnement



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, RMS Titanic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23152048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atqnement/pseuds/atqnement
Summary: When the Titanic begins to sink, Alex and Casey find themselves playing a dangerous game. A game in which facing death head-on is sometimes more calming than waiting for it to catch up to you.
Relationships: Alexandra Cabot/Casey Novak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Unsinkable

**Author's Note:**

> “she may be poor but she got a fat ass tho.” and “when she’s a peasant but u still tap dat” - a biography by alex cabot. ( thanks jaime:) )  
> \- this is the ending of a titanic au fic i am working on! i just couldn’t help myself but write the ending now.

Casey was beautiful. In her sleep, in her waking hours, in her darkest moments. And yet—Alex wondered, how did she end up so poor yet so charming? Her whole life she had been raised thinking that those in poverty were below her. Servants, maids, someone to dirty their hands for you.   
But with Casey, Alex would rather have dirty her own hands if it meant spending her life with her. Sure, it’d have to be secret. It’d have to be love letters wrapped up in packages, whispered words in between passing on the sidewalk.  
Alex shifted under the sheets, the heavy, thick fabric of her dress itchy against her skin. Oh, how she longed to slip out of it and press her bare skin against Casey, to feel every inch of her body and then some. Lifting a hand, she cupped it over Casey’s cheek, letting her fingers stroke along her brow and cheek, feeling the subtle curves of her bones.  
And then a loud scraping noise. A hiss, the warning of an animal before it attacked. Alex flinched, jolting upright seconds before Casey did. And right as it had happened, it was over.   
Groggy, Casey rubbed her eyes, her red hair shining against the light of a candle. A candle. Alex had left the candle on.  
“What was that?” Casey’s voice held an edge of worry to it, as it always did. Good things did not come to her easily, and she was wary to accept help, fearing it’d bring her more harm than good.   
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Go back to sleep, _dulcinea_.” Alex roused herself from the large, mahogany bed, walking over to the large desk.   
“Then why are you up?” Casey’s voice started to lose its edge as she grew more awake with the passing of each sleepless second.   
“I don’t want to burn the ship down.” Alex chuckled, brushing the pieces of hair that had fallen from her braid off her shoulder. She blew the candle out, being careful to not let the hot wax spill over onto the tablecloth.   
“See. I’m back now.” Casey lifted up the large duvet, letting Alex climb under.   
The boat seemed to shudder. There it was again. The scraping against the walls; nails on a chalkboard.   
“Are you sure it’s nothing? I cant be the only one who hears that?” Casey’s head turned, staring around at the walls of Alex’s lush stateroom.   
Again, Alex pushed herself from bed. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.   
“I’ll go see what’s happening.” Alex slipped on her shoes and opened the door, a strip of blue light floating into the room. She began to walk out, shutting the creaking door behind her, but a hand grasped her arm.   
“Where you go, I go. I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially if something’s amiss.”   
“Casey—“  
“No.”  
“Please just-“ Alex words were cut off as Casey’s lips smashed against hers in the hallway, her back finding its way to the wall. After a moment, Casey pulled back, breathless.   
“Please just what?” She smiled, but not before her eyes darted around the hallway. A steerage passenger and a rich woman walking through a luxury liner together was bound to attract unwanted attention.   
Alex sighed, turned on her heel, and began walking. Casey followed, almost giddily, taking in the grand floors and halls and staircases that she couldn’t have even imagined back home.  
But suddenly, she stumbled forwards, bumping into Alex. There were no holes in the carpet, no gaps in the floor. What had she tripped on? Alex turned, holding a finger to her lips, pressing a hand against the wall.   
“Feel it.” She grasped Casey’s hand and placed it next to hers.   
“I don’t feel anything.” Casey’s brows knitted together, her hand pulling away.   
“That’s the point. You can feel the engine when we’re moving. We’ve stopped.”   
“But why?”  
A large crack answered their thoughts. 

People began to pour out of their rooms, dressed in suits and plain shirts and evening dresses. As confused as they were, they began to claw up the stairs, fighting one another to get ahead. One of them collided into Casey’s shoulder, spinning her around and chasing her to tumble on the floor.   
Not only did she look out of place amongst the debutants, she acted the part too. Trying to help herself up, only to be stepped on by a booted foot again as people rushed past them. She almost lost sight of Alex, stumbling over her hands, before realizing they were _wet._ Her hands were drenched in water, and with horror she stood.  
Water was leaking into the ship. Not from the ceilings, but from under them. Slowly, surely, rising up the carpet, rotting the hardwood and staining the walls. Suddenly, the water was up to Casey’s ankles. Her calves. Knees. And Alex was already taking off, trying to pull Casey along up the stairs. The hem of her skirt had soaked through, the large, puffy material of Alex’s dress clinging to her legs.   
A knee to the back. Casey fell again, crushed by the weight of who knows how many people rushing by. And as soon as they had come, they were gone. A faint scream echoed, followed by a resounding crash. The scream stopped. The water rose above her head, no longer a steady trickle, but roaring waves with white foam that pounded the walls and railings, cracking pieces of wood, pieces of paper and pipes floating in the sea.   
Casey sputtered, choking on saltwater, losing her grip on Alex’s hands. The water rose and rose, deafening. She couldn’t even scream, gasping for air that wasn’t there. Her mind itself felt as if it was drowning. In water, in worry, in thoughts. She took in lungfuls of water, her body refusing to stop its panic. That was, until she found herself being dragged upstairs.  
Without an explanation, Alex had groaned and half-carried Casey up the steps as she coughed up water, her head spinning, eyes blurry, hands and arms weak from thrashing. The water threatened to catch up to them—and then they broke to the surface.  
The wind whipped around them, sending a chill tingling down Casey’s spine. She leaned against a wall and caught her breath, wheezing, staring at the night around her.   
There was no moon.   
It was hidden behind clouds—perhaps just obstructed by the smokestacks with thick, gray smoke belching out of them. All Casey could see was the stars, twinkling, thousands of miles away. And yet, she felt as if she could touch them.   
“Casey?” Alex grabbed her face in her hands and tilted it to look up at her. She was a mess, her auburn hair plastered against her face, droplets of water all over her.  
“I’m fine, Alex.” Casey pulled herself off the wall. She looked around, head whipping back and forth. “We’re on the wrong side of the ship.”   
“What?” Alex tried to follow Casey’s gaze, her eyes narrowing. But then she saw it. A mass of black against the navy sky. An iceberg. And though seemingly far away, she couldn’t have tried to imagine its size. “Oh my god.”  
“That was the scraping. We hit an iceberg, Alex. The ship is going to _sink._ It hit on our side, starboard. And in the back of the ship. Where we are. Our best chance of getting somewhere where we won’t freeze to death is up there.” Casey pointed at the front of the ship. People were crowded along balconies and on the deck, peering for a look at the iceberg.   
Casey pushed Alex forward, a hand on her back, the other on a rail to keep her balance, guiding her to the front of the ship.   
There was an explosion.   
The ship shuddered, shaken by whatever had happened. Alex tripped and clutched the railing, her eyes wide. Her hair blew in her face, tangling in the wind. They ignored it, trying to make their way through the throng of people that never seemed to let up. Every person who hasn’t already drowned was on the deck of the ship.  
Another explosion.   
Then again.  
And one more, reverberating through the hull of the ship. Casey tripped, careening into someone as the ship started to list. With a shudder, Casey had realized that steam no longer blew out of the stacks on top of the ship. If she ignored the wails around her—it was eerily silent. A titanic ship with a less-than-titanic voice.   
A scream cut into her mind. Alex’s scream. Casey spun on her heels, searching for her, thinking the worst. And then she saw her hands. Grasping the railing, hands slipping, knuckles white, was Alex. She let out a choked sob as Casey ran over, her mind moving a mile a minute, frantically trying to pull Alex up. The wind blew at her dress, its fabric billowing in the wind.   
Her hand slipped.   
Alex’s scream was lost in the wind as she began to fall again. Maybe if she closed her eyes—maybe if she ignored the pit in her stomach, she’d be ok.   
Her body jerked like a rag doll. Casey had grabbed a fistful of the material on her back, holding her up barely with a hand. She pulled until Alex’s arms were within reach, and clawed at them with desperation like she so frequently clawed at the dreams dashed and cracked like the millions of stars bursting out in the night sky.   
Casey heaved Alex over the railing, and as soon as she had hit solid ground, she pulled Alex into an embrace. She didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to think about anything else in the world. She wanted her and Alex to stay here forever. Where she felt like royalty trying on Alex’s many gowns, sneaking around the first class decks, Alex braiding her hair with deft fingers into a complicated bun that she could only dream of being able to do herself.   
A sob escaped Alex’s lips, and she went limp with horror in Casey’s arms, sinking to rest her head against Casey’s shoulder. They stood, frozen for a moment, ignoring the confused, even disgusted glares around them. Someone bumped into Casey, a snarl escaping their lips. She ignored it. All that mattered right now was Alex.   
After a moment, Alex began to calm down, withholding her cries that became sniffles. She pulled away from Casey, swiping at her tear-stained cheeks.   
They stared at each other, and time froze. Casey’s eyes reflected the stars so perfectly in them—and Alex wouldn’t complain if she got lost in them. A sea of green waiting to be dove into.   
“Are you ok?” Casey brushed a hand against Alex’s arm, nails running down the pearls embroidered on her lace sleeves.   
“I will be. Let’s keep going.” Swallowing her fear, Alex tentatively set off again, holding Casey’s hand, rubbing her thumb against her palm. They weaved through people, Alex clearing a path for Casey only for her to be swallowed up by the crowd. She was a speck of dirt among a freshly cleaned marble floor. The ends of her skirt were tattered—torn by the time she had tried to hem it herself. Casey felt like prey, being torn apart by the vultures surrounding her, the hem of her skirt being stepped on again.  
As they began to near the bow, it became harder to not notice the ships tilt. There was no doubt that the ship was going to sink, and the best that they could do was hurry into a lifeboat before the were full.  
Alex tried to not think about where they’d be if there were in Casey’s stateroom. If it could even be called that. Rats and chewed sheets were the only thing that could’ve possibly resembled any charm in her room. And they’d be dead. Just another floating body too slow to escape the rising water.  
She snapped back to reality. People rushed around her, scurrying for lifeboats. It was a game of survival. There was no order here—no honor except for women and children first. People weren’t hesitant to push other out of the way, to make room for themselves. And Casey... Casey. Where was she?  
Alex’s searched, and it seemed like an eternity until she found the mass of red hair staring at her. She rushed forward, hiking up her skirts, catching up.   
It would’ve been stupid to run. The desk was slippery and crowded, and there were open wires being shocked with water. People loading into lifeboats, screaming. Out of the corner of her eyes, Casey saw one of the lifeboats slip halfway out of its bonds. Someone tumbled out in the water, their body spinning as if Mother Nature was playing with it.   
But then they were there, grasping the slick railing, panting. Casey felt hot, even sick. It was freezing out, her skin turning to gooseflesh. Yet she still couldn’t shake the feeling off.   
“What—What do we do?” Alex found herself turning to Casey once again, asking her for answers. But she’d been the one to lead the way. She was supposed to be the one making sure Casey wasn’t getting hurt.   
“I’m...not sure. Maybe we should—“   
A terrible, hair raising sound made its way to Alex’s ears. It was the sound of an animal dying, groaning like a beast in the night. The ground beneath her feet shook and she suppressed a scream, the memory of her near-death coming back all too quickly.   
The noise got louder and it didn’t stop. Alex was blinded by a flash of light, bringing her arms up to cover her face even though it was already over.  
It was dark. 

Still no moon. 

The power was out. Every twinkling light—every hope of their saving was gone. It couldn’t have been more obvious that there was no way out of this. They were going to die.   
  
And then screaming. 

The cries of children, couples, all a cacophony of sound against the silence. It was overwhelming, too much at one time. Glass broke as water pushed its way through the ship. And the band still played. Standing in ankle water, unrelenting. It was utterly horrifying.   
A shadow appeared beneath Alex’s feet. She stared up at the smokestack that had long ago stopped working. And it was _falling._  
Alex threw herself full force at Casey, knocking her over, them both slamming against the railing.   
The smokestack crashed into the water, splintering through the wood on the deck.  
And the people that had stood there moments before had vanished. Alex couldn’t bring herself to turn around to looks at what had happened. She was afraid that if she let her mind catch up to her body, she’d curl up into a ball and block out the world.   
Casey held onto both Alex and the railing, trying to keep her feet from slipping. She searched for a lifeboat, perhaps one close enough to the water so that it wouldn’t hurt to fall—when she saw that the lights on the horizon had gone out. When she and Alex had first made it to the deck of the ship, there was another boat near them. It was gone.   
A lump rose in her throat and tears welled up in her eyes. She let them fall. Biting her lip, she realized that she couldn’t feel the tears sliding down her numb cheeks.   
More screaming. One of the lifeboats was shoved off a roof and landed upside down in the water. The ship creaked and groaned, heaving its last breath.   
It split in two.   
Alex lost her footing against the slippery, wooden deck and screamed, clutching onto Casey. The adrenaline rushing through her veins and the blood pounding her ears drowned out all other sound. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it anyways. As she grabbed at the railing, the ship twisted and tilt, turning upright. She let out a sob, her heavy dress weighing her down. Alex’s arms burned as she held on for her life.   
All around her, people fell. Into the water. Onto the sideways smokestack. Some fell into the ocean and didn’t resurface. Alex squeezed her eyes shut as a wailing baby was dropped into the water.   
She was crying. And she didn’t care. The idea that she was going to die and there was no way out of it just _hurt._  
It was gut-wrenching, spiny fingers clawing at her heart and tearing it out of her chest. And she didn’t want any more of it. Maybe it was cowardly—maybe it was the worst thing to do in the situation, but she let her fingers lose grip of the railing, and kept her eyes closed as they wind stole away her voice.   
She hit the water.   
It was violent, and her body screamed in protest as it began to sink into the depths of Atlantic. Everything burned, her arms, her legs, her back most of all as it had hit the water head-on. But as the shock of it died down, Alex realized it was cold. So cold that her chest felt like it was collapsing in on her, like she couldn’t move her arms to swim up even if she wanted to.   
She heard a noise, and then hands grasped at her. Alex wanted to fight them—wanted to let them know to just let go, to let her die in peace. Because she was just dead weight.   
But whoever was on top of her kept pulling, the nails on their hands digging into Alex’s arm, drawing blood. Her head broke the surface and she didn’t even have the energy to hold it up, letting her neck tilt back, exposing her throat.   
Cold hands cupped her face, tilting her head up for her. She opened her eyes.   
It was Casey.   
Casey had cared enough to drop to her death and give everything up for Alex. She was willing to die while trying to find a way for Alex to live.   
She sobbed, her voice breaking in the middle of her cries, hair beginning to freeze, icicles forming on her eyelashes.   
“Shh, I know, I know.” Casey’s voice seemed far away as she dragged Alex atop the broken hull of a lifeboat, splinters of wood digging into her fingers. She wasn’t out of the water, but it was close enough. Casey scrambled on next to her, arms shaking from the effort and the cold. The water was below freezing, and her breath froze in front of her as she heaved, hugging herself as she tried to warm up.   
Alex was still crying, but no longer screaming as she felt as if her vocal cords had frozen. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry.” Her voice was raspy and dry as the cold clutched onto her body, throwing it around like a plaything.  
Casey didn’t know what to say, so she held Alex as they watched the ship disappear under the waves, echoes of terror fading into the night. And soon, all that took its place was debris and the corpses of the unfortunate. She stared at the ocean, stealing herself a moment of serenity while she pretended to ignore her body screaming for help as it froze from the inside out.   
She saw the moon.   
It had made its way out of the clouds, and she fought back tears. She pulled her hand out from under Alex’s body, extending it towards where the ship had been. Moonlight glinted off her arm, a pale blue. Her distorted reflection stared up at her. As did a lifeboat’s.   
Snapping her head up, Casey turned and screamed. Not words—just a desperate wail for help. Her heart dropped into her stomach when her words came out quiet, silenced by mother nature grabbing at her throat. She screamed again.   
The lifeboat began to turn. Casey tried to push herself up to a sitting position, waving her stiff arms. She looked down to Alex—who wasn’t moving. Alex wasn’t moving.   
Casey grabbed her and held her close, her body trembling. She strained to listen through the night, the silence seemingly deafening. Alex was breathing. Casey sighed and let out a sob for no one to hear—at least not yet. The lifeboat tried to make its way through the cluttered water, but got stuck on a large piece of wood. A door.   
Without hesitation, Casey sucked in a breath and dove into the water again, dragging Alex with her through the current, her muscles and lungs burning as she blindly swam, arms smashing into what she hoped wasn’t people until she grasped the edge of the lifeboat.   
“One more!” The sailor shouted, leaning over the edge to peer at Casey.  
“What?” Casey squinted and panted, not hearing clearly as her ears were filled with water. The man held up a finger.  
“One more! There’s only room for one of you.” As if Alex has heard his words, she came to panicking and thrashing in Casey’s grip. Casey just held on tighter.   
“Take her. Please.” She shoved Alex onto the lifeboat, letting men help grasp her arms and pull her up. Alex looked up to face the sailor who was standing next to her.   
“What about her?” Alex pointed at Casey. The pearls that once embroidered her sleeves had turned to ice, along with the tracks of tears ok her cheeks and in the corners of her eyes.   
“Did you not hear me? There’s space for only one of you.” The sailor’s eyes were wide.   
Alex took in the size of the lifeboat and counted. There were only 15 people on board, 16 including her. There was room on the benches, but people stared at her like frightened animals. They were scared that the weight of both of them would sink the lifeboat. She almost laughed—dying in a lifeboat, the one thing supposed to save you when a ship sinks.  
But as her hysteria faded, she dissolved into sobs again and cursed herself. For being so weak to try to end it all, to not even make an effort to save Casey after all she had done for her.   
“Casey?” Alex whispered, reaching out into the darkness until she found Casey’s.   
“Listen—“ she sobbed, croaking out “No” as Casey began to speak. She sounded as if she was speaking to someone dying, trying to comfort them even through the horror of what they knew was to come.  
“Alex, listen to me. Now what you’re going to do, is you’re going to go back home. You’re going to marry that nice man you find and you’re going to love him but don’t forget me. Don’t forget me because I won’t forget you. Don’t forget me because I love you.” Casey cupped Alex’s face in her hands, brushing frozen streaks of hair out of her eyes.   
Alex’s face contorted as she weeped, clutching onto Casey, who whispered sweet nothings back to her and kissed her starkly white knuckles that gripped the edge of the lifeboat.   
Water washed over her head, suddenly drenching her. Casey gasped, turning her head to find an elderly man next to her. His light blue eyes crinkled with a smile, but she could see past it. He was as terrified as she was. The man extended a bony, freckled hand towards Casey.   
“Go. Go be with her.” His smile faded as his teeth chattered. He was going to die. Before Casey could protest, he spoke again. “I have nothing to live for. My wife died long ago. You’re so young, you have so much ahead of you. Please, do this favor for me. Let me be with Alexandra.”  
_Alexandra._  
That was his wife’s name. That was Alex’s full name. Alex said that she had hated that name—but not when Casey has spoken it, slurring the syllables together.   
Hands stretched out to Casey, pulling her up by the sleeves of her shirt as she worked her jaw, trying to find words where there were none.   
“Thank you.” Was all she could muster as she enclosed the man’s hands in her own, letting his fingertips drift from hers. His eyes closed, his body now another one floating in a sea of disaster.   
She never knew his name.   
The lifeboat rowed away, and Casey finally broke down. She tried to keep quiet—to let out her sobs as she refused to let go of Alex, but it was almost no use. The people around her didn’t seem to mind, as some of them were crying and whispering to one another themselves.   
“I love you so much. I love you so much and I’m never going to let go of you until you’re safe. I’m going to hold onto you forever. You’re so beautiful, you know that? You’re the prettiest woman I know, and—“ this time, it was Alex pressing a finger to Casey’s lips.   
And still shaking, Alex held Casey back, letting herself tumble into the depths of the embrace, intertwining her hands in Casey’s hair.   
She peered over behind Casey’s shoulder. The moon reflected against the water. But this time—there were no corpses. No wood. No metal. The water was clear, and it was just Alex and Casey holding onto each other as they turned with the rocking of the boat.  



End file.
